


Confessional

by Silverwing26, soulless_lover



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blasphemy, Confessional Sex, Latin Kink, M/M, Rosary Porn, Sacrilege, Shameless Smut, Shota, This Is Not Your Grandfather's Catholicism, We Bonded Over Smut and Popcorn, Weston Arc, Your Argument Is Invalid, yoooooooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ: And no marvel, for the devil himself is transformed into an angel of light: Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness, whose end shall be according to their works. - <b>2 Corinthians 11:13-15</b></i>
</p><p> </p><p>Young Mr. Phantomhive meets Professor Michaelis in the chapel to exchange information in the privacy of the confessional, and... well... we're going to Hell for this fic.</p><p>And you're <i>allllll</i> coming with us.</p><p><b>Silverwing26 as Sebastian</b>, AKA The Unholiest Man of the Cloth EVAR<br/><b>soulless_lover as Ciel</b>, AKA The Most Non-Penitent Penitent In History</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tell Me Your Sins

Sobbing. Sniffling. These were odd noises to hear echoing against the chapel walls at Weston. The confessional, sitting up against the stone wall, was an ornate thing, carved from dark wood and hung with red curtains. Soft murmurs in dark dulcet tones emanated from the center chamber, that is if one were to stand close enough to hear such soft whispers. From the far right, the sobs and sniffles continued along with less conspicuous words, choked in a voice pitched higher from the emotions it tried to contain. 

“So then, tell me of what is troubling you so - your face in the library was quite pitiable,” came the dark smooth voice through the slatted divider to where Joanne Harcourt sat with his hands between his knees and his face lowered. 

“It was Cole,” came the defeated response. “He said he gave me the invitation to Swan Gazebo, but... I never received it.”

Such was the scene that greeted one Mr. Phantomhive as the appointed time to meet with Professor Michaelis drew near.

Ciel frowned and tried not to roll his eyes. _It must be so incredibly dull,_ he thought, _having to listen to all the petty sins and trivial nonsense of adolescent boys all day long._ A wicked smile crept across his face. _Good._

He slipped into the left-hand booth and shut the curtain behind him; the grate to his left was shut, but when the sniveling penitent on the other side left, the cover would be slid back to allow him to speak. He snickered, muffling the sound with one hand - oh, it was too rich, the devil having to play the vicar and absolve children of their sins! He couldn't pass up the opportunity for some mischief, he just _couldn't_.

“I'm really not lying!!” Harcourt burst out loudly, but then his voice dropped with a sob. “Everyone is calling me a liar.”

Professor Michaelis let his eyes slide shut, and his lips curled into a serpentine smile though his voice betrayed no such thing. He was devoutly sincere in his tone; the irony was laughable. “You must have been sad, and it must have been hard on you, to have no one believe you… but I do not think you are a liar. And so, please _pray_ that this misunderstanding will clear up one day soon.”

The final response from the poor student was unintelligible. A few short minutes later however, Harcourt was exiting the chapel, eyes dry, if not still puffy from all the shed tears.

Ciel heard the rattle of the curtain rings as the occupant of the right-hand booth left; there was a soft metallic scraping sound as the demon closed the grate, and then the brass cover of the lattice in Ciel’s booth slid back. The little Earl leaned closer to the grate and whispered in his best innocent-child voice: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned… oh, so very much.” 

The familiar, childish, and oh so impish voice caught his attention immediately. “Oh?” the demon chuckled. “And how long has it been since your last confession?” He smirked behind the lattice separating him from the left-side compartment. “Would you like to tell me your sins, young Phantomhive?”

Ciel struggled not to laugh as he replied, “I can’t remember the last time I went to Confession… that’s awful, isn’t it?” He softened his tone even more, doing his best to sound sorrowful. “I… I’ve sinned so terribly, Father… I’m so very ashamed.”

“Poor child,” the 'Father' murmured back, with a mocking lilt to his velvet tones. “If you do not share your shame with me, I cannot absolve you of sin.” Father Michaelis curled a gloved finger in front of his lip to hide the smirk threatening to overtake him, lest his utter amusement leak into his patriarchal tone.

“Well, you see, I…” The boy made a little sniffling sound. “I have… impure thoughts. And… and I’ve…” He paused for dramatic effect, and added another little sniff, just for good measure. “I’ve… committed lustful acts,” he finished, in a tortured whisper.

“You sound far too innocent for the sin of lust to have taken hold so strongly.” There was a short pause before the calm, soothing voice continued through the latticework. “Tell me of these acts, so that I might advise you on how to make penance.” The demon silently chuckled to himself, the chain from his glasses swaying slightly.

“Well…” Ciel put a hand up to his mouth, as if to hide the words. “I… I’ve been thinking… sinful things… about someone. Someone in this school. I… I’ve thought of him at night, when everyone else is asleep… and I’ve… I’ve…” He covered his face with both hands, more to hide his irrepressible grin than anything else, but he was fairly certain a casual observer would think him horribly embarrassed. “Oh, I can’t bear to say it, Father! I’m _so_ ashamed!”

A fine dark brow arched beneath inky black hair. “Is that so?” He cleared his throat as he repressed a chuckle. “As you know, all of your confessions are of course kept in the strictest of confidence. You can lay your shame at my feet.” The demon crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the compartment as he turned his garnet eyes to the latticework to glimpse the boy beyond. “To have your nights so… _disturbed_... poor child.”

Ciel took his hands away from his face, leaned even closer to the grate, lowered his lashes, and breathed softly: “It’s as though the devil’s gotten into me, Father, stirring up all manner of indecent thoughts… My hands wander beneath the duvet as if by themselves… I feel as though I can’t control it!” The shy whisper became a low, throaty murmur. “I can almost _feel_ him there, touching me, asking me to touch him… and I _want_ to!” He made a pitiful little sound verging on a sob. “Oh, I’m a wicked, wicked child, aren’t I?”

“That is truly sinful, to keep the devil in your thoughts as such. Why, you might find him in your bed with you, should your thoughts hold their course.” The vicar smiled to himself in the dimness of the confessional, illuminated by the unnatural glow of his eyes. “A wicked child indeed. You were right to come to Confession. You need _saving_ , Phantomhive. These sinful desires you have... whatever shall you do if the opportunity were to present itself? Pray?”

“Oh, but it _has_ presented itself!” the Earl whimpered, and had to bite his lip to keep it from becoming a laugh. “And… I didn’t pray. I… I did… such obscene things…” He pressed his cheek to the lattice, keeping his eyes demurely downcast. “Can you absolve such a bad child, Father?”

Smirking gloriously, the demon reached one gloved hand out and stroked along the cheek pressed to the latticework. “Perhaps, perhaps. But it will take an awful lot of devotion to absolve such shamefulness.” A dark musical chuckle sounded from behind the velvet curtains. “How much faith are you willing to show?”

Ciel turned his face toward the grate, gazing into the darkness beyond; his human vision couldn’t make out the demon’s form in the shadows, but he knew ‘Father’ Michaelis could see him perfectly clearly. “What must I do?” he asked, blinking his wide blue eye innocently.

Deep garnet eyes swallowed the ocean blue one in the darkness. As his lips curled at the corners, his tongue brushed against a sharp canine tooth, starkly white against the dark. “Oh dear. Perhaps you should start by telling me all of the shameful things you have _done_.”

Ciel looked away, as if in mortification. “Well, I… I’ve touched… I’ve kissed his… um, you see, I…” The sudden inability to form proper sentences wasn’t entirely for show – and neither was the blush seeping into his cheeks, although it certainly did lend a nice hint of credibility to his act. He hadn’t expected to actually _say_ such things… and what if someone were eavesdropping outside the confessional? After a moment’s consideration, he looked over one thin shoulder at the grate and whispered, “Oh, Father, I just _can’t_ say such wicked things out loud!” He snuffled against the back of his jacket sleeve, peering imploringly into the dark booth on the other side of the lattice. “Whatever shall I do?”

A beautifully smug smile glided across the demon's face. He watched the boy through his lashes, turn away from the grate. He listened to his words become tinged with _actual_ embarrassment and he laced his fingers together and set his hands upon his knee. “Yes. You've said as much already. Such vague statements simply won't do.” That eye looming wide and pitiable in the darkness had the devil chuckling quietly to himself. “Well then, my child, if you simply cannot get the words to pass those innocent lips of yours, perhaps you had better come show me what you cannot speak of.”

Ciel had to turn away again, this time to hide the naughty smile curving his lips. “Yes, Father,” he murmured. He cautiously drew back the curtain just a bit and peeked out; seeing no one else in the chapel, he hurried over to the center booth of the confessional, unlatched the heavy wooden half-door, and slipped through, re-latching it behind him. After one last quick look around, he drew back the curtain and stepped into the interior of the booth; and just before the drapery fell back into place and plunged the little enclosure into darkness again, he caught a quick glimpse of the devil sitting on the bench, his legs formally crossed, his spectacles glinting, the long, long row of tiny buttons down the front of his cassock. “I…” he started, then looked towards the floor, though he could see nothing in the blackness. “I don’t know where to begin,” he said, which was actually the truth. “Please give me your guidance, Father Michaelis.”


	2. Act of Contrition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Correct thy son, and he shall give thee rest; yea, he shall give delight unto thy soul. - Proverbs 29:17

The demon waited in the darkness and listened to the boy leave the confessional and enter the center chamber where he sat. He eyed the wicked curve of pink lips from behind his spectacles and envisioned tracing them with his tongue. He chuckled as the curtain slid closed behind Ciel and his head tilted to the side, spilling his hair along the side of his cheek. “Of course, my poor wicked child… if I couldn't guide you in this, what sort of vicar would I be?” He unlaced his fingers and patted his knee in the darkness. “Come forward to me. Now, let me see if I can recall your words. Oh yes… ‘I’ve touched… I’ve kissed his...’ This seems an appropriate place to start. What is it you’ve touched, young Phantomhive?”

Ciel moved forward, slowly, blindly, until his knee bumped against the devil’s leg; with a bit of assistance, he climbed up onto it, settling himself astride Sebastian’s lap. “Well,” he whispered, leaning forward, his small hands sliding over the wool cassock, the row of buttons, the rosary hanging down the ‘vicar’s’ front. “I… I’ve touched… like this…” He leaned closer, the neck-chain of the devil’s spectacles cold against his face. “I’ve kissed here…” He pressed a light, chaste kiss to that smooth cheekbone. “And… and… I’ve kissed here, too.” Sweetly, gently, he touched his lips to Sebastian’s mouth.

Sebastian's enigmatic smile never faltered as Ciel smoothed his hands along his chest and leaned in to kiss his jaw. “Yes, I see. Naughty perhaps, but I don't know if I would yet qualify this as wicked.” Soon those lips were pressed against his own and his eyes fell partially closed as he moved his lips softly against the boy's. The demon trailed gloved fingers over little Phantomhive's knees and settled his hands on thin thighs straddled on either side of his lap.

Ciel sprinkled a line of feathery kisses along the devil’s jaw, then used both hands to push down the white cravat to lick the pale skin beneath it. “I’ve done this, too,” he whispered against that alabaster throat, his voice warm and eager. “Do you think this is sinful, Father Michaelis?”

'Father Michaelis' chuckled, his breath warm against Ciel's hair. He tilted his head up slightly to allow better access to his skin, and when he answered back, his voice, a dark ribbon curling through the blackness of the confessional, vibrated his throat against wicked little lips. “Perhaps. Do _you_ think it is sinful? A few prayers would suffice for this, I think. Surely there is more, for you to have such shame about telling your sins to me.” He chuckled again and slid one hand up the boy's side and over his shoulder until curled fingers brushed against his cheek.

“There… there _is_ more,” the boy murmured in as bashful a tone as he could manage, “but… I would have to… to _do_ things to demonstrate… things that could… well…” One small hand toyed with the rosary, twisting it around his fingers, while the other slid down the front of the cassock, stopping here and there to let the heat of his palm seep through the wool. “Things that might shock you.” He almost laughed just then, and had to bury his face in the demon’s neck to hide it. Him, shocking _Sebastian_? Highly unlikely, but certainly fun to play at.

His hand slipped from the boy's cheek and his arm wrapped around his back pressing to him to the demon’s chest. Sebastian chuckled softly in the darkness, feeling the little penitent’s face against his neck. The ghost of warmth from those small hands was still clinging to his skin and he tilted his head to whisper into the shell of Ciel's ear. “It is my duty to guide you through all things, even those that might be _shocking_. Are you truly that wicked, Phantomhive? Do you think you can shock a _holy man_ like me?” Amusement glowed behind the spectacles, dancing in the demon’s eyes, as his other hand then took the boy’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted the small face to look up at him. “Do try, Phantomhive.”

Ciel ran his fingers through the false vicar’s hair, unable to suppress an evil little smile as he whispered, “Oh, but Father Michaelis, you don’t understand… for you see… _I’ve had the devil in me_.” He opened his mouth over the demon’s, pushing his hot, insistent little tongue between those cool lips, kissing him deeply and hungrily, pressing his front against that long row of buttons.

The devil parted his lips under the assault of the small hot tongue plundering his mouth; Sebastian sucked greedily at it while his hands wandered down Ciel's narrow back to wrap around his hips. A throaty purr echoed at the back of Sebastian's throat and he bit down on the plump bottom lip before he pulled away, trailing his tongue over the bite. “Have you now? That does sound wicked. Inside you where, little Phantomhive? That sinful mouth of yours? Perhaps you should show me.”

Ciel cradled the demon’s face in his hands, exhaling heated, quickening breaths that smelled faintly of chocolates and Earl Grey tea. “Perhaps I should kneel to offer my confession, then?”

The false Father's lips curled at the corners and his eyes glowed faintly in the dim chamber. “Yes, I think you should.” With utmost care, gentle gloved hands eased Ciel to the floor; a fine brow arched above the rim of his spectacles as Sebastian looked down upon the boy kneeling on the floor of the confessional. Staring into that blue eye looking up at him over his knees had the demon growing hard beneath his robes.

Ciel could see nothing in the darkness except the coal-ember glow of the demon’s eyes – but he could certainly feel, and when he reached out, he found those long, elegant legs in their perfectly-creased trousers. Slowly, he slid one hand down to the polished black wingtip shoe next to his knee, then worked his way back up, his fingertips ghosting over the ankle hidden by fine black socks; as his hands came up over Sebastian’s shins, they came across the hem of that long cassock, and as he began to open the tiny buttons from the bottom of the row upward, he whispered into the black space above him: “Should I say a prayer?”

Hungry bright eyes traced over every deceptively innocent-looking feature from those soft lips, to the round cheeks, to that wide, deep blue eye. He leaned back against the bench, feeling small hands sliding along his legs and he delighted in being able to watch the boy at his feet use his hands to guide him. The demon chuckled to himself as his little student set to work on the exceptionally long row of buttons. It was almost penance in itself as the little master had never quite gotten the hang of buttons. “Do you think you could finish it before your mouth is otherwise engaged?” He chuckled darkly and laid a hand atop the boy's head. “What sort of prayer would be appropriate, hmm? To whom shall you pledge your devotion?”

Could he finish a prayer of contrition before his mouth ended up full of something decidedly less holy? “That depends on how long it takes to undo all these damned buttons,” he muttered, prying open what felt like the fiftieth one despite the fact that he had only managed to open the cassock to the knee so far. He heard the demon snicker – no doubt in amusement at his frustration – and amended in his sweet-child voice, “I’ll say whatever prayer you feel is appropriate to atone for my wickedness, Father Michaelis.”

“No one claimed the road to salvation was a short one, Phantomhive.” He chuckled again and curled his fingers through Ciel's hair, rubbing against the back of his ear. The demon's lips quirked at the sound of the child's voice. Such innocent sounds hiding such debauched wickedness. It was irresistible. “Oh, I don't know that a simple prayer will absolve you, my child… you claim to be so wicked, after all. Tell me, young Phantomhive - have you enjoyed the time you've spent with the devil inside you?”

Ciel opened what he was certain must’ve been the nine thousandth button, about halfway up the demon’s thigh. “That’s what makes me so wicked,” he replied, leaning over the devil’s lap to reach the higher buttons. “I enjoyed it very much… I even begged him not to stop, I was so shameless… it just felt so good, and although I’m certain he would be _unbearably smug_ if he heard me say such a thing, he’s very skilled at what he does.” 

Father Michaelis grinned indulgently and watched the boy lean over his lap. Phantomhive's warm weight across him had his lips smirking and his fingers continuing to stroke through the boy's hair. “Hmm, yes. Devils are like that, I'm afraid.” Of course he neglected to point out if it was the fact that he was sitting rather smugly with his little pupil’s hands creeping up his thighs, or that he was in fact _very_ skilled at what he did. “And now? Are you so shameless? We shall have to see how corrupted these interludes have made you.” Sebastian chuckled and ran his hand below Ciel's chin, lifting their eyes to meet once more. “I should like to see how you beg for the devil. Only then shall I know if absolution is possible for you.”

“Oh!” Ciel whimpered in mock dismay, “Do you mean to say that it’s possible I could be too ruined for absolution?” Having opened what was surely the millionth button, he was finally able to run his hands over the front of the demon’s trousers, feeling out the contours of his very hard and very obvious erection. _Hah,_ he thought with a little smirk, _I knew it – just the sacrilege alone is probably stirring him up into a right froth… never mind the fact that I’m very good at what I do, as well._ “Am I truly so unsalvageable a soul?” Bending down, he kissed the hard ridge gently, almost timidly.

 _Oh, that boy's voice..._ Sebastian thought to himself and felt his length twitch under Ciel's roaming hands. He watched those lips quirk as they slid along his hardness and the demon’s eyes smoldered hotly. “No. I never said that. Yours is a soul I would go to great lengths to salvage.” His gloved hand slipped down the boy's thin neck and pulled his tie from out of his waist coat. He held the end firmly between his fingers and his murmur was low and husky: “I merely require a show of just how deep the well of your wickedness flows.”

“Of course,” the Earl answered, his breath hot against the front of the demon’s trousers, his small fingers working open the buttons. “I’m afraid it’s awfully deep… I’ve been rather sullied, I think.” Warm, soft lips fluttered over the skin revealed as he pulled the material back and tugged Sebastian’s white shirt up a bit. “I told you – I’m a wicked child.” His wet pink tongue flicked over the devil’s shaft, working the full length free of the cloth. “Very, very wicked,” he half moaned, and took the head into his mouth.

A near-silent sigh escaped the demon's lips as he felt the first warm touches of soft lips upon his skin. He released the boy's tie and leaned back against the bench. “You have told me, yes. Now show me.” Inky lashes fluttered down against pale cheeks as Father Michaelis felt that small mouth moan around the head of his cock. He rested one gloved palm on the top of the boy's head, patting him and tousling his hair affectionately. “I see – mnng – that tongue of yours is wicked indeed.”

Ciel opened his mouth wider, taking in as much of the demon’s length as he could – which honestly wasn’t a great deal, but damn if he wasn’t going to give it his best. “Mmmm,” he offered in reply, his mouth full, his sinful little tongue pressed against the underside of that thick, pulsating cock, his head slowly bobbing up and down, one hand holding the clothing out of the way while the other did its best to hold the devil’s shaft still. That in itself was a challenge, given that he needed both hands to encircle it.

Sebastian gazed down with aroused amusement, watching the boy struggle with his hands quite literally full. The darkness was no obstacle for the demon though, and he was able to clearly watch his hard length sliding between those soft pink lips. A low rumble sounded from deep within the false priest’s chest as Ciel's wanton tongue stroked and pleased him. His left hand lifted to his mouth, and in the darkness the sound of a glove being slid from impossibly smooth hands mixed with the soft moans.

Ciel’s knees were starting to ache from being pressed against the wooden floor and the side of the bench, so he climbed up onto the seat and draped himself half over the devil’s legs, then returned to his task, licking up and down that solid shaft, lapping away the salty-sweet fluid leaking from the tip. “What do you think now?” he asked quietly, sucking at the sensitive ridge around the bottom of the head. “Is my soul worthy of your time?”

Sebastian adjusted himself as Ciel climbed partially into his lap so that he was as comfortable as possible. In the darkness, his lips curled into a beautifully dangerous smile. “Hmmm,” he hummed, as if in contemplation. “I think you may have been speaking the truth about the depth of your sin.” He smirked in the darkness and slowly raised his hips to meet the lowering mouth opened wide to accommodate him. “Worth my time? Oh yes, I think so. Though I think a little extra punishment might aid in your salvation.” Suddenly, there was the sound of air being displaced quickly and the demon’s bare palm landed squarely on his young charge’s backside. The boy's clothes protected him, and it wasn't a terribly hard smack... yet. “I am sure the devil enjoys being inside of you just as much as you do. This will take so much more than just prayers.”

Ciel yelped, then quickly covered his mouth. “Sebastian!” he hissed indignantly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

"You may call me Professor Michaelis, or Father, Phantomhive. " He let his hand come down again, in just about the same spot. "Though whichever you choose, perhaps do so quietly." He chuckled deeply and his other hand, still laced through the boy’s hair, stroked and petted the silky strands. "Surely, as wicked a boy as you are, you have experienced this before." The demon grinned in the dark and rubbed across the flesh he just struck. "All part of your penance, you see."

“Aren’t you taking this a bit fa—“ That hand came down across his behind once more and he had to cover his mouth again to stifle a cry of protest; it really didn’t hurt very much – but it _was_ a surprise each time Sebastian smacked him, because in the pitch-dark of the confessional, he couldn’t see what was going on and couldn’t prepare himself for the blow. He waited, and when the devil’s hand didn’t raise again, he finally asked in a fierce whisper: “Are you absolutely mad? What if someone sitting in the chapel hears that?”

“I imagine you don't really want to find out the answer to that question.” The devil murmured in the dark as he squeezed the round buttocks under his hand. Sebastian's hand slipped from the boys hair and trailed across his smooth cheek. His long gloved finger curled under Ciel's chin and lifted his head to stare into garnet eyes that were darkening to the color of wet rubies with arousal. “You may continue to show your devotion, Phantomhive.” The false vicar’s lips quirked at the corners, hidden by the darkness, while his bare hand slid over the child's rear, and down between his legs to stroke him through his trousers.

Ciel smothered a startled gasp as those long fingers slid downward to rub and squeeze him. “Ah… you right bast— _ah_!” Another smack to his butt, then an obscene, gentle caress between his thighs. _All right, fine,_ he thought, with a sullen harrumph. _If he’s going to insist upon spanking me, let’s see how he likes it when I end up biting him by accident._ He lowered his head and took as much of Sebastian’s shaft into his mouth as he could in one go, trying his best not to choke himself as he did so. 

“Mnng...” Sebastian's head fell back slightly as his little lost soul returned to his _salvation_. Dark velvety whispers fell down around Ciel's, _nearly_ imperceptible to the human boy's ears. “Such deviance... what a good boy.” Sebastian's hand continued to slide between the boy's thighs, his fingers stroking along the obvious erection. “Raise your hips.”

The Earl did as he was told, attempting to smirk somehow with his mouth full. _Good boy?_ he mused, rather scornfully. _And here he was calling me ‘wicked’ not three licks ago._ “Mmm,” he replied aloud, rolling against that talented hand, then withdrew just enough to breathe, “Ah… Professor…” against the wet, dripping head – which he followed up with a very small kiss right on the very tip.

Professor Michaelis felt himself twitch as Ciel's hot breath washed over his sensitive flesh; when those little pink lips pressed against the tip, his gloved hand worked its way back into the silken strands of his hair. He smirked at the sight before him, his little charge with his head down in his lap, his hips raised off the bench while his own hand stroked between the boy's legs. How fortunate that the demon had fastened and unfastened thousands of buttons in his time as a butler. Skilled fingers deftly worked the buttons on the boy's trousers, and it wasn't long before he was beginning to slide them over his rounded little rear.

Ciel tensed warily – of course he didn’t particularly mind if Sebastian wanted to undress him, but if the sly old devil happened to still be in an authoritarian mood, the lack of trousers would certainly make things more difficult for his less-than-repentant pupil. For one thing, those smacks would _hurt_ a lot more, and for another, without the cloth to dull the sound, they would also be a lot _louder_. He considered: should he continue teasing the demon as he’d planned, or should he be more well-behaved in an effort to avoid getting his behind reddened further? As much as he disliked the idea of having to sit on the wooden bench at dinner with a sore butt, the idea of giving Sebastian exactly what he wanted due to an unspoken but very obvious _threat_ … well, he disliked that quite a bit more. He slid one hand under the cassock and shirt, running his short nails across the devil’s lean abdomen. “Is this part of my Act of Contrition?” he asked, somewhat smugly.

“Perhaps. Since your mouth is no longer busy, I do believe it is time for your prayers.” The demon's abdomen vibrated with his deep chuckle. “You are without a rosary. You may use mine, my child.” The smirking professor didn't leave much time for contemplation before that bare hand was coming down again across exposed skin. “And do be careful not to falter. You shall have to start them over again.”


	3. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O, full of all guile and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord? - Acts 13:10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we just _had_ to use the Agnus Dei, even though we know it isn't standard Catholic practice to substitute prayers in the Rosary. then again, Ciel would likely have been raised Anglican, not Catholic, so he wouldn't be reciting Hail Marys anyway. but he doesn't believe in God, so it's a moot point. just roll with it, it's smut.
> 
> also, Happy Easter.

There was a horrified yelp in the darkness, then a furious whisper: “You _must_ be joking!” His nails dug into the smooth skin he’d just been lightly scratching. “Recite the damned _rosary_? _Now_??”

"Do I sound as if I am joking?" He questioned, his eyes two glittering gems in the darkness just starting to bloom with unholy fire. His hand came down again and this time rested upon the smarting flesh. The devil’s fingertips ever so gently traced over the pale rear, beginning to flush with color. "Now be a good little lamb while I decide if you can yet be saved."

Ciel scowled and made an irritated _tch_ sound – it looked as though there would be no helping it… how had he gotten into this mess in the first place? _With any luck,_ he thought maliciously, _the prayers will set his bollocks aflame or something, the evil bastard._ He sighed and put on his sweet-child voice again. “Yes, Professor Michaelis, of course.” Then he paused, realizing he had absolutely no idea where to start, given the fact that he hadn’t said a single prayer in years, despite having spent nearly two months at Weston with a _vicar_ as his dorm master! His hand came out from under Sebastian’s clothes and felt around blindly until it landed on the crucifix on the rosary around his neck. The Cross… what was the Cross prayer? “In… in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.” He couldn’t make the Sign of the Cross while holding the rosary with one hand and supporting himself with the other – above Sebastian’s twitching cock, no less - so he used one finger to draw it on the devil’s chest, his fingernail scratching over the wool.

The vicar arched a fine brow. “Well, that was almost acceptable.” There was the sound of air displacing quickly again as his hand made contact with soft skin. “In Latin this time, Phantomhive.” Ciel felt the demon lean forward and whisper hotly in his ear. “Of course, if you cannot do your prayers properly while receiving such chastisement we shan't be able to move onto your Act of Contrition.” Sebastian ran his gloved hand beneath the boy's chest and slipped the buttons on his jacket open.

Ciel gritted his teeth and bit back a nasty retort that would have surely earned him another, harsher smack. “In nomine Patris, et…” What the hell was ‘son’? “Erm… et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” He finished with a flourish, re-drawing the cross over Sebastian’s chest with rather more pressure and petulance than truly necessary.

“Very good.” The demon purred before letting his tongue trace over the shell of the boy's ear. Ciel felt the devil’s hands brush over the material of his shirt, the waistcoat now hanging open along with his jacket. “But mind your tone, little lamb.” That hand came down again, maddeningly precise as he landed his blow in the same place as the previous smacks. “Continue...”

The boy gasped as he was struck again, a sharp intake of breath he only slightly muffled by burying his face against the front of the devil’s cassock. “Ah… er…” What was next, what was _next_? The Lord’s Prayer? Oh hell, a long one. “Um… Patris… no… Pater noster, qui es in… um… caelis, sanctificitateur… no… sanctificetur nomen tum—tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelis— _caelo_ es… in terra. Um… Panem nostrum quotinum… quotinidium… quot… oh, do I really _have_ to say the whole bloody thing? _Really_?”

The demon actually laughed at the petulant, exasperated outburst. "Yes." He dealt Ciel three sound slaps in quick succession. “There. Errors accounted for. Now. Continue. If you stop again, I shall have you start it over.” Sebastian's bare hand settled against the now very warm skin, his fingertips brushing along the cleft between the boy's buttocks; his other hand slid along the pressed white shirt and found one of Ciel's nipples; he pinched it lightly through the fabric and chuckled into his ear.

A rush of violent, vitriolic images flew through Ciel’s head, most of which he was sure probably nullified any prayers or penance he could possibly do in the span of his lifetime. _That damned devil!_ he snarled inwardly. _That smug, arrogant, unbearable, utterly villainous **bastard**! How the deuce am I supposed to remember anything at all – let alone recite it – while he’s doing **that**?_ “Ah… quotidianum da nobis hodie, et—oh!—dim… dimitte nobis deb… ohh… debita nostra sicut et—nnn!—nos dimitti…mus… debitoribus nostris…” He bit his lip as Sebastian’s clever fingers tweaked the other nipple, which was already hard and aching. “Ah! Et… Et ne nos inducas in tennnn—nnn!!—tentationem, sed… ah… libera nos… ahhh… a malo. A—ah!—men!”

Sebastian's voice dipped very low and when it reached the boy's ear, there was a distinctive growling quality to it. “Very penitent. Very good.” The demon withdrew his hand from where it tormented the boy's erect nipples; the sound of cloth moving reached Ciel's ears; then, in the darkness, the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle. The little Earl became aware of some... _liquid_ dripping onto his backside, then Sebastian's fingers sliding through it. The demon's chest rumbled beneath Ciel's hand as he hummed deep in the back of his throat. “Now… in place of the Ave Maria, I believe I shall have you say the Agnus Dei.” The most unholy of vicars rubbed oil across his little pupil’s rear and then slid one finger into the boy, searching out his most sensitive places.

“Ah… Agnus Dei…” Ciel’s hips lifted as if by themselves, and the hand clutching the rosary slid up the devil’s front to wrap around his neck. “…qui tollis pe—peccata mundi…” The boy whimpered, feeling himself hardening at the false priest’s touch despite his sore and smarting buttocks. “Misere—oh!—miserere nobis!” Burying his face in Sebastian’s tall clerical collar and soft cotton cravat, he began the second recitation: “Agnus Dei, qui to… ohhh… tollis peccata mundi…” He realized he was rolling his hips, and for a moment he was horrified – but then a second oiled finger joined the first, and suddenly he was astride the demon’s lap again, panting, rubbing against that wool cassock with truly sinful abandon. “Mise—ah!—misere…re nobis!”

The demon arched a brow as his lips curled into a smirk, feeling those little arms around his neck. "That was only two..." Sebastian's third finger tapped against the boy's skin but did not enter him. The demon wrapped his free hand around Ciel's back and long fingers trailed up his spine to entwine in his soft hair. “Continue...”

Two? Two what? “Ah!” There were definitely two fingers inside him, but… oh, right, the prayer! “Ahhh…gnus Dei, qui tohhhhhllis pecc—ah!—ta mundi…” His breath was hot and eager against Sebastian’s neck, his body warm all over; even the burning sting of his smacked behind somehow felt good, and he didn’t even know _why_. It was confusing and infuriating and oh so wonderful. “Mi… sere… re… no— _oh!!_ —bis…” What came after that? Another Pater Noster? The Gloria Patri? He couldn’t remember. “I—I can’t… I don’t… oh, Father Michaelis!”

The _Father's_ eyes glowed fiercely through the darkness. All it took were a few precise movements and Sebastian was slipping the patch from the boy's eye and letting it fall to the bench beside them. He stared into Ciel's eyes, deep and luminescent to his inhuman vision, and slipped a third finger inside. His little charge’s body was so warm, and Sebastian found he hardly need slide his fingers in or out with the way the boy was rubbing against him and rolling his hips. The demon smiled almost patronizingly. “I think you can.” What precisely _that_ was though, was left unsaid as Sebastian slid his tongue against those panting wicked lips.

“No… oh, I can’t, I can’t!” Ciel gazed up with half-lidded eyes, the devil’s spectacles reflecting the violet glow of the contract seal back at him, showing him the faint image of his flushed, shameless expression. He gasped in shock and drew back a bit, realizing he was looking at himself, and his body stilled for a moment.

“Oh, but you will,” he purred against the boy's lips. He arched a dark brow, feeling the boy in his lap still his movements and pull back. Sebastian tilted his head down, staring over the tops of his spectacles into those big, beautifully mismatched eyes. “What is it, my little one?”

“I… nothing. Nothing, it’s fine.” Ciel reached up and carefully removed the demon’s glasses, lifting them over that dark head to get them completely off of him, then folded them and tucked them into his jacket pocket. It was difficult enough to look up at Sebastian’s eyes during their trysts - the last thing he needed was to watch his _own_ eyes as he did all those scandalous things. Crisis averted, he pulled ‘Father’ Michaelis to him with both arms and kissed him deeply, trying to forget that reflection he’d seen, the wanton expression on his face, the Faustian mark burning like a lantern in the darkness.

Sebastian allowed his spectacles to be removed and watched Ciel with interest as he tucked them into his jacket. A rare glimmer of curiosity sparked behind the demon's eyes just as the wicked little lord pulled him into a deep and hungry kiss. That need burning on the boy's tongue, to forget, to be distracted, to be utterly pleasured, was a taste the demon knew very well. Understanding dawned on him, and he smiled against the boy’s demanding lips and roving tongue, and it was a wicked and merciless thing indeed. He nipped at that small tongue and slid his tongue against those perfect pearly teeth as he continued to stroke and caress the small body in his lap. He wanted to feel that panting breath against his neck once more – after all, the boy was hardly through with his repentance.

Sebastian’s fingers began to move again, and Ciel started to rock against them, gradually regaining his rhythm; the demon’s body was strong and solid, his touch gentle, his scent sweet and alluring; soon enough, the little Earl was fairly relaxed again, pressing his kitten-soft cheek to the devil’s face. “Oh… oh, that’s… mmm…” His open shirt and waistcoat allowed him to rub his entire front against the slightly scratchy wool of the cassock, and if he turned just _so_ , the row of shiny buttons teased his nipples in an admittedly delightful way. “Ohhh…”

The devil smiled, feeling the darkness grow warm. “That is what? Is this how the Devil comes to you, Phantomhive? Do you take him here also?” With a rich, dark chuckle, Sebastian stroked his fingers deep within that wicked child. When Ciel arched as the pleasure coursed through him, Father Michaelis pushed his chest forward, pressing those hard black buttons against the boy's erect nipples. And oh, how the 'vicar’s' length throbbed with the boy astride his lap, feeling him move against the hot flesh while his fingers slipped in and out with the rolling of little Phantomhive's hips.

Ciel tilted his hips forward, the dripping tip of his shaft rubbing wetly against the underside of the devil’s; a soft gasp escaped him, and he began to rise and fall slightly, the buttons coaxing his nipples into tiny little pebbles, hard and sensitive. “Oh… I… nnn—Seba—ah!” Panting and hot, sweat beading on his upper lip, chills running up and down his spine in delicious, maddening waves. “Oh—ohhhh…”

“Ah, how utterly sinful you sound...” The boy's hot breath bathed his neck and jaw, and with a truly lascivious grin, the devil slipped his tongue from between his lips to lick the sweat from Ciel's upper lip. “...Something the devil finds truly irresistible. Let us see how truly debauched you have been, how sullied he has made you...” Father Michaelis slipped his fingers free and slid them through the generous amount of oil smeared across Ciel's backside. He wrapped his slick hand around his length and those long fingers also managed to stroke his little charge’s dripping shaft, coating his stiff cock with oil and pearly fluid. Sebastian's free hand slid across the pale expanse of rib cage before coming to squeeze one of those pebble hard nipples. He dipped his head, tongue slipping into the boy’s mouth, and kissed him hungrily, sucking the gasps from him as they fell.

“I was already sullied by the time the devil got his wicked hands on me,” Ciel retorted, eagerly returning those dark, delectable kisses that tasted as sweet as the demon’s honeyed voice. “It would be quite a feat if he were able to debauch me any further – although I’m sure he’d be willing to try.” He rocked back against those long fingers that teased and rubbed and opened him so skillfully, wriggled his hips downward until the slippery head of the devil’s oiled shaft was brushing lightly along the cleft between his buttocks. “Wouldn’t you agree, _Father Michaelis_?” 

“Oh, I am sure he would be willing to try. A wanton little thing in need of saving is exactly the sort of child he would come to claim as his own.” The vicar’s chest vibrated with a deep chuckle and his hands trailed down both of the boy's bare sides. “However, let us worry first about continuing with your _penance._ ” With inhuman grace, Sebastian lifted Ciel from his lap and carefully turned him around so the boy's wide eyes stared into the darkness of the curtains enclosing the compartment, his back pressed against the woolen cassock. The head of the demon's dripping shaft slid against soft skin and as Father Michaelis lowered the boy onto his throbbing cock, his lips fell against the pale smooth skin of Ciel's neck, nipping and licking.

Ciel bit back a moan as that thick cock slid into him, smoothly, gently, easily; he leaned back against the demon’s chest, his head resting on a broad shoulder, one thin arm coming up to reach behind the devil’s neck and pull him closer, insolent little fingers stroking through that silken black hair. “Ah… _ah_! Whatever, just… keep… doing that!” His narrow hips squirmed against the false vicar’s pelvis, his inner muscles squeezing the solid length buried inside him, his spine undulating in slow, sensuous movements as he attempted to take more and more in. “Oh, yes—yes, there!”

The devil chuckled darkly against the boy's pale heated skin, and then he felt those tight muscles squeeze him and the velvety amused tone melded into a dulcet growl. Sharp teeth brushed against the boy's shoulder and as little fingers buried themselves in his hair, he bit at the skin, tasting the sweat and his little pupil’s arousal. Sebastian's hips rolled upwards, pressing into Ciel as he squirmed against him. Oh, the heat was intoxicating and the vicar felt himself twitch as he buried himself deeper in the boy; at this rate the entirety of Phantomhive's body would be an offering for Salvation and ‘Father Michaelis’ had much more than prayer in mind to ensure his absolution. The devil’s skilled fingers traced idle patterns across pale ribs, down his stomach and across the boy’s pelvis, brushing against his length but not offering any real friction. Then they slowly crawled their way back up his body before he took a nipple into each hand, rolling them firmly between his fingers.

Ciel writhed under the demon’s touch, every caress, every pinch, every tender stroke a merciless assault on his senses; he would never admit such a thing, even to himself, but he was as addicted to his dalliances with Sebastian as an alcoholic to drink – he craved the devil’s low, unbearably erotic voice in his ear, those graceful hands that roamed across every inch of his body, that smooth, hard shaft that—“Ah!!” The little Earl arched as a sudden jolt of pleasure shot through him, his cock twitching in response, and then he was reaching down with his free hand to grasp it, stroking it shamelessly as he quivered all over and trembled atop the devil’s thighs.

Ciel's pale skin glowed to the demon's eyes in the darkness of the confessional. Sebastian stroked the boy's neck, his jaw, his earlobes with his wet, searching tongue. With his inky black hair falling against the little earl's shoulder and neck, his eyes full of hellfire glittered over the writhing supple thing in his lap. The vicar’s tongue came to brush over his own elongated canines as his eyes lowered. His view from over Ciel's shoulder, looking down at the thin, undulating body that shone with sweat was exquisite. This writhing, panting, innocent, slatternly creature was _his_. The wicked little hand came to curl around the boy's cock, and as he stroked himself, quivering and gasping, Sebastian's lips curled into a dangerous smirk. “I might just like to keep you like this. All wretched and wicked. Perhaps let you continue to confess so that you might only sink further into sin?” He laughed and it was a hauntingly beautiful sound, dark and smooth and menacing.

The evil laughter that stirred the fine, downy hair near Ciel’s ear made him shiver and harden even more – much to the proud little lord’s annoyance. His fingers tightened in Sebastian’s hair, pulling at it almost angrily, and he clenched his inner muscles as hard as he could until he felt the devil flinch, heard the smug chuckles become something more sinister. “Oh, do shut up!” he snapped, squeezing once more for emphasis. “I’m tired of your nonsense.” But despite his icy words, his voice and his tone were as hot as the mouth he pressed to the underside of Sebastian’s jaw and bit at it with.

A dark brow arched as Ciel's body responded beneath his tormenting fingers and honeyed words. The devil's lips curled a bit too much, his teeth showing a bit too prominently as he was so deftly squeezed, and he growled deep in his throat. That hot little mouth, so talented and wanting, pressing against Sebastian's flesh caused his arousal to flush wildly beneath his pale skin and priestly robes. He tweaked and pulled and pinched one pink nipple, perversely delighting in coaxing shameful noises from his flinty little lord while the other hand slid up Ciel's chest as he arched back against the demon’s front, to wrap lightly around his pale bared throat.

Ciel obligingly tilted his head back, though he was sure to remember it later and blush with fury and embarrassment, and brought the arm behind the devil’s head further around, lifting himself higher, pressing his face against the side of Sebastian’s neck. “Oh,” he panted softly, the cool grip at his throat tightening ever so slightly, and he responded with a squeeze of his own, making the demon hiss with quiet pleasure. “Ohh…”

Then, to his absolute horror, there was the sound of the curtain-rings rattling on the brass rod above the entrance to the right-hand booth. He froze, hardly daring to breathe, and listened as the penitent shuffled about in the small compartment and sat, as icy blood rushed through Ciel’s veins.

Sebastian's skillful fingers squeezed one pebble-hard nipple as his breath hissed between his teeth. His lips curled as he felt himself squeezed and bit back the aroused growl forming in the back of his throat. He throbbed and he could feel the boy's rapid pulse beneath his fingers curled about that pale neck. Like a great cat, his chest rumbled as a low chuckle left his lips and he turned his glowing red eyes towards the grate separating his compartment from the right-hand confessional. Things were about to get very entertaining indeed.


	4. Fall To Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He which testifieth these things sayeth, Surely I come quickly. Amen. – Revelation 22:20

The devil’s long fingers continued to hold Ciel in place, head raised, his back arching slightly with the boy's hand wrapped behind his head. Then the vicar shifted himself slightly on his bench, sending vibrations through his little charge's body. Long, elegant fingertips slid down the boy's chest, traced over that little hand frozen mid-stroke around his dripping cock, and then moved to slide open the grate.

Paralyzed with abject terror, Ciel remained perfectly still, although it was difficult with Sebastian continuing to tease him with calm, wicked hands. Worse yet was when one of those hands reached over and slid back the metal grate cover. _Are you bloody barking mad he could see us you evil lecherous rat bastard son of a—_

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Redmond’s voice, smooth and cultured. “It has been a week since my last confession.”

The little Earl’s heart was beating so hard and so fast he half expected it to burst right out of his ribcage at any moment. Why the hell did it have to be someone he knew? And one of the P4, no less! _And_ that lascivious devil was harder than ever, pulsating deep inside the boy, obviously savoring his contractor’s distress, rolling a tender pink nipple between two casual fingers. Of course _he_ could be calm – he had to have known someone was approaching… and had apparently decided not to mention it. Ciel gritted his teeth angrily. _I swear on my family name, Sebastian, I am going to make you regret putting me in this wretched situation._

Father Michaelis smiled through the darkness hearing Redmond begin his confession. He should cross himself now, as the penitent would also be doing such. His long fingers stroked against Ciel's lips, and he smirked to keep himself from laughing at the way the boy's jaw was set with frustration. Sebastian's hand continued southward, his nails brushing down that narrow pale chest and over his abdomen to finally stroke over the boy's hand. With his eyes glittering darkly with amusement and something more carnal, he then rolled and pinched the boy's left nipple followed by his right, as his deep velvety voice floated through the darkness. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

”Well there now. One can hardly hear confession without making the Sign of the Cross.” His breath was a warm wet whisper against Ciel's ear. Sebastian listened for Redmond to begin laying his confessions before him, and as he began to speak, Sebastian dipped his head to run his tongue along the boy's ear. He nipped the shell of it and buried his nose in the boy's hair, smelling his terror, aggravation, and the still-thrumming arousal beneath it all. His hand continued to roam across the small body before wrapping itself around Ciel's fist. Once again that rich dark voice was a barely audible whisper, easily lost under Redmond's smooth tenor. ”Will you keep going? Or shall I help you?” And as if for emphasis, the demon's hand moved once, slowly stroking the small earl in his lap.

Ciel tensed as that wicked hand trailed over his body in a lewd mockery of piety; he didn’t dare try to respond to the demon’s obvious provocation, because he was afraid the instant he opened his mouth he’d moan, and their torrid activities would be discovered. _Oh no, don’t you dare touch me there don’t you dare don’t you dare—_ “Nnn!”

“Father Michaelis? Are you all right?” Kind, compassionate Redmond’s voice was full of concern. 

_He won’t be for very much longer,_ Ciel thought as he twisted his fist in the demon’s hair more tightly and gave it a vicious yank. _Especially if he keeps doing **that**._ Sebastian responded with a deep, hard thrust that somehow managed to be completely silent except for the soft whispery rustling of his robes; Ciel’s mouth opened to cry out, and the hand that had been tormenting his left nipple clamped down over it and stifled the sound.

“Quite all right. So kind of you to ask. Do you have anything further to confess?” The impious devil managed to sound calm and cheery despite his hips rolling slowly beneath the squirming boy. His brow arched as he felt Ciel's tongue touch the palm of his hand as it sealed the moaning cries inside his mouth. Oh how the devil loved the sound of his little lord’s broken pants and throaty moans falling from between his swollen lips. On _this_ occasion, the sheer adrenaline running through his small form from the fear or being discovered mixed with the pleasure flushing his skin pink was enough to placate the demon.... for now. 

As amused as he was, Sebastian was also hungry. Their game, while amusing, was also driving him into a fervor. His teeth gritted together and low growl passed between them, an inhuman sound meant only for Ciel's ear's, and the boy could feel it rumble through his back as it was pressed to Sebastian's chest. The devil would have his sinfully wicked child writhing in his lap again, and with that thought he tightened his grip around Ciel's fist and quickened their pace.

Ciel’s legs wrapped around Sebastian’s, his body curving backward against that hard row of tiny little buttons, his breath hot on the cool hand covering his mouth. _Oh, don’t, don’t, I’m not going to be able to keep quiet if you keep moving like that, oh bloody hell if we get caught just because you couldn’t control yourself—_ But he knew that wasn’t the reason Sebastian hadn’t stopped – the demon’s self-control was actually quite the marvel. It was because he didn’t _want_ to stop. He _wanted_ to continue fucking Ciel as hard as he quietly could, with Redmond just inches away on the other side of a thin wall with an open grate in it, and he was enjoying every illicit, depraved, and maddeningly pleasurable second of it.

“…I’m afraid I was less than kind to him, you see,” Redmond was saying, his voice a soft hum Ciel was only dimly aware of. “I truly didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but he was _quite_ persistent, and I just lost my patience…”

Ciel didn’t care about his classmate’s trivial sins, his mundane trespasses against someone; nothing Redmond could say could even hold a candle to the debauchery going on right next to him, unbeknownst to him, and really, when one thought about it, almost nothing _anyone_ could say could hold a candle to the immoral act Ciel was currently involved in. Being buggered silly in the confessional booth by a devil dressed in a vicar’s robes, while said devil absolved penitents by reciting holy rites – well, it would be difficult to trump that without bringing murder into the equation.

Another deep, hard thrust – almost brutally so – and Ciel couldn’t help but make a sharp, muffled cry that was drowned out by a loud, perfectly-timed cough from the false priest that had been the cause of it.

Sebastian's cough stirred the hair over Ciel's ear, a sudden burst of air against the damp hair and sweat soaked skin. He turned his head towards the grate slightly and opened his mouth to answer poor troubled Redmond in the next booth, but the little Earl's body _clenched_ around him and the devil hissed through his teeth to keep from groaning aloud. His pupils, fine slits in the darkness, focused on the boy in his lap, eyes closed and back pressed firmly against his body; he thrust again with his hand still clamped over Ciel's mouth; he could feel those perfect white teeth against the undersides of his fingers and for a moment was tempted to release him. That would have to wait. He could be patient still and wait a little longer to run his tongue over those teeth, to bite at the boy’s pink tongue, to suck the pleasured cries from his throat as he fucked him senseless. He smiled wickedly, regaining his priestly composure. 

“I see. Please continue...”

His evil hands continued mercilessly to both silence the boy and coax shameless sounds from him. The rustling of Sebastian's robes as he moved his legs further apart was lost to the gentle murmur of Redmond talking. Ciel's pale legs wrapped around his own, spread further as he moved, and the devil's voice echoed in the boy's ear, dark and inflamed. _“There...”_ He rolled his hips sharply and exhaled a soft growl. _“Just as you like it, my wicked little one… deeper and harder.”_

Ciel released Sebastian’s hair and let his hand slide down to the demon’s nape, where he dug his short, perfectly manicured nails in, leaving shallow, bleeding crescents. He forgot about Redmond, forgot about where they were, forgot about all the horrid things that could happen if they were discovered; all that truly mattered at the moment was Sebastian’s voice, rich and evil and aroused; Sebastian’s clever hands, driving him into a frenzy of desire; Sebastian’s cock, buried to the hilt and slippery with oil; Sebastian’s body, so solid against his back; Sebastian’s breath, hot and sweet, warming Ciel’s bare skin and making him shiver with delight.

“…I told him it wasn’t me, but I don’t think he believed me,” Redmond said, far away. “I do know who left the note in his desk, but I’m unsure if the right thing to do would be to say so and embarrass my friend, or let him think whatever he will…”

The movement, the positioning, the feel of what the demon was doing to him… Ciel was rapidly coming undone, his hand fluttering about aimlessly behind Sebastian’s head, stroking the devil’s hair, his nape, the back of his shoulder, clutching at his robes, the collar of his cassock, the locks of hair tucked behind his ear. _Oh oh Sebastian don’t make me I can’t I can’t it’s too good too much too deep too fast I’m going to die it feels so good I bear it anymore I can’t I can’t…_ A soft, desperate whimper vibrated against the hand over his mouth, and the boy’s entire body was tensing up, trembling all over with increasing violence as if a great crescendo were building up in him.

Those little fingers dug into his pale skin, and the devil’s lips curled with the pain and the pleasure of it all; the child in his lap was writhing and rocking with him, taking his thrusts, his length, his heated brutality with quivering delight. The false vicar leaned his head down as those fingers fluttered about the nape of his neck and he sucked and bit at the boy's bare shoulder. 

Redmond was a distant harp string, lilting and floating on the air, but of no real consequence when plucked on its own. Pleasant, but inconsequential. 

The demon dipped his head, feeling Ciel's body shudder; he was too sweet, too innocent, too arousing and Sebastian was at the end of his patience. His hand slid down to the boy's neck, tilting his head back so his mouth was open and waiting; there was a singular moment where those slitted eyes, full of hellfire, stared into the little earl's mismatched ones - the seal glowing purple in the darkness, his deep ocean blue eye reflecting the glowing fire back. Then his mouth was sealed over Ciel's lips with an almost crushing ferocity. His tongue slid between those lips, over perfect teeth, to stroke heat against the boy's mouth. The devil was as sweet in taste as he could be with his honeyed words and when his small master responded by sucking on his tongue, he growled into his mouth. His long fingers slid along Ciel's pale neck in time with his thrusts and the stroking of Ciel's aching cock. 

Sebastian could feel the boy’s entire body shaking upon his lap. _Yes, fall to pieces, my young master,_ he thought, and the back of his hand burned with an unholy intensity, his Faustian mark igniting with lust. _Fall apart in my arms so that I might piece you back together as only I can... and then bring you to the brink again..._

Ciel couldn’t think, could hardly even breathe; his heart was pounding with a delicious ferocity, driving his blood through his veins in time with the pulsations rising up from the muscles that twitched and contracted in rippling waves around Sebastian’s cock; a wonderful and terrible suspense was growing deep within his core, making him feel as though he were about to burst; and finally, after what seemed like forever, he did, the climax hitting him like a ton of bricks and tearing a scream of pleasure and relief from him, which was immediately stolen away with his breath by the ravenous devil’s mouth.

“Father Michaelis?” Redmond’s voice, sounding a bit worried. “Are you there?”

Ciel was melting, lost, willingly damned; he came and came, spilling over his and Sebastian’s intertwined hands, each spurt sending a jolt through him that made his whole body convulse in ecstasy, until he collapsed with exhaustion against the hard chest behind him. His arm fell limply down to his side, his vision dancing with multicolored flecks of light, and he fancied he could hear the euphoric blood rushing through his veins like molten gold.

“…Father Michaelis? Are you sure you’re all right?”

Ciel's pleasure was palpable. His entire body tightened like a bow string before his release finally broke through him and Sebastian's pulse quickened further. His body curled around Ciel's as his muscles tensed with his impending climax. The scream of pleasure filled his mouth and he swallowed it down, stealing the boy's breath, his whimpers and broken pants. 

Ciel's hot seed spilling over their hands had the demon groaning into the boy's mouth. Their fingers slipped together and even as the boy collapsed against his body, he continued to stroke him, continued to make him stroke himself. His other hand fell away from Sebastian's hair and came to rest against the devil’s thigh, quivering with the effort of the movement. 

Sebastian thrust with such force he practically lifted them from the bench. He felt his little lord surrender to him, to the pleasure he gave, to the pleasure he was taking, felt him collapse against his body, felt his pulse racing beneath his perfect pale skin, and Sebastian was undone. He captured the little lord’s mouth once more, having no desire to stifle the sinful sounds about to fall from his lips. His hips rolled a final time and the demon came long and hard, pleasure sparking through his veins, with the boy clenching and spasming around his cock. Oh how the demon throbbed and twitched, and with each spurt he growled and panted into Ciel's mouth. His body thrummed with flushed pleasure, with the feel of the spent child in his lap, with the taste of him on the devil's lips. 

With a growl he broke from the hungry kiss, nipping the boy's lips as he did so. His composure was near perfect, perhaps only Ciel detecting the vibrating undertones in his speech as the devil was unable to keep his growl entirely to himself. 

“Of course. I am considering your penance; begin with the Act of Contrition, my child.”

The ringing in Ciel’s ears slowly died down and he heard Redmond’s earnest recital of some prayer, which one he didn’t know, and didn’t care, either. His skin tingled, his face was damp with sweat, his toes had just begun to uncurl, and the warmth the devil had filled him with seemed to spread throughout his limbs, quickening his blood and dissipating his exhaustion. He felt so _good_ \- who needed Heaven when Hell was that pleasurable?

Redmond droned on, softly; Ciel slowly raised his free hand and stroked Sebastian’s cheek, and when the demon turned his head and looked down at him with those marvelous coal-ember eyes, the boy brought his other hand up to that handsome, smiling mouth and presented it as if it were a gift. His own mouth curved into an impish grin and he silently mouthed: _Lick it off._

Sebastian’s fingers were surprisingly cool as they smoothed damp hair away from Ciel's forehead. Soft fingers on his cheek brought his gaze around to lock with the boy's. Through the darkness, he saw those sticky dripping fingers presented before his sinful mouth and he arched a fine dark brow. His languid fingers curled around the boy's wrist and he slowly brought that small hand towards him. 

The wicked little creature smiled at him, and as Sebastian read the words from that twisted little grin, he felt himself begin to harden again. His warm tongue passed between his lips and pressed against the flat smooth palm. He lapped the cooling liquid as a cat might a saucer of milk, the tip of his tongue flicking against the soft skin. Long broad strokes followed, curling around the contours of the boy's palm, around the side of his hand, and darting down to lap droplets sliding down his wrist. The devil paused and licked his lips as he stared deep into his master's eyes. The demon opened his mouth and slide the boy's thumb between his lips. He almost seemed to purr as his tongue wrapped around the digit, and then began sucking greedily. As Sebastian slid Ciel's thumb from his mouth, he nipped the pad before dropping a soft kiss over it. Ever so slowly, he proceeded onto a finger, and then another until those small delicate digits were clean. With a soft chuckle, the devil slid his tongue between each finger and then over the back of the little earl’s hand. His skin was sweet and the gift he'd just been presented, sweeter still. It was intoxicating and the devil's lips parted slightly as his tongue cleaned away the last droplets. He released the boy's wrist and whispered through the darkness. “Shall I lick the rest of it off now...?”

“…..and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.” There was a short pause from the adjacent booth. “What shall I do for penance, Father Michaelis?”

“Hm. Three Hail Marys, two Our Fathers, and as soon as possible, you must perform an act of kindness and service for one of the younger students. Remember that your junior peers need your guidance, and look up to you as an example of what a well-educated gentleman should be. Show them patience and generosity, no matter how irritating they may be to you, and be as gentle as possible in deflecting their unwanted attentions.”

“Of course, Father – thank you!”

Sebastian nodded shortly, and waved a languid, sticky hand in the general motion of the Sign of the Cross. “Go, and sin no more.”


	5. Devotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O, full of all guile and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord? – Acts 13:10

The curtain-rings rattled again, and as soon as he heard Redmond’s footsteps fading, Ciel grumbled in the darkness: “I suppose you’re quite pleased with yourself, demon.”

Sebastian chuckled and turned glowing eyes on the boy. “You might say that.” He smirked and traced his tongue over his own fingers, cleaning the last sticky remnants from his hand. “You seemed to be as well... and telling you to go forth and sin no more wouldn’t do any good at all.” He ran cool fingers along the underside of Ciel's neck and along his jaw, finally coming to brush his curled finger tips over the boy's lips. The demon's other hand slid down that pale flushed chest, over his stomach, and his fingers slid through the mess cooling on his skin. With an arched brow, he murmured against his little master's ear in the darkness. “That must be terribly uncomfortable.”

Ciel shifted slightly, the bones slowly returning to his near-senseless body. “Psh. I do what I must – I don’t care if it’s a sin or otherwise, you know that.” He did his best to sound aloof and nonchalant, but somehow, he found himself inclining his head ever so slightly toward the devil’s warm mouth, the tickling brush of his hair. “And yes, it’s becoming rather unpleasant. Are you going to _do_ something about it?”

“I suppose - if I am of a mind to.” The devil chuckled, seeing the indignant look on his young lord's face. Those long fingers curled beneath the boy's chin and tilted his head up to meet sinful hungry lips. Sebastian sealed his mouth over Ciel's and almost tenderly stroked his tongue over his lips seeking entrance, warm and slick; he inhaled the boy’s scent, plundered his mouth. The demon's large hands cradled his pleasured little imp against his chest for a minute or two until he broke the kiss and turned glittering, devious eyes over the body in his lap. He lifted Ciel up and turned him back to face him; with a chuckle, he situated the boy's feet on either side of his thighs and placed those little hands on his shoulders. “Far be it from me to leave you in such a state...” And then that hot, searching tongue was pressing along the soft skin of Ciel's stomach, thoroughly licking, dipping into his navel and traveling downwards to his pelvis.

Ciel quivered, digging his fingers into the wool under his hands; his legs, having regained solidity only recently, wobbled under him and he nearly fell – but the devil’s strong, gentle hands wrapped around his waist and held him up. “Unh—Sebastian—wait, I… oh, don’t—ohhhh…” The weak protest trailed off, forgotten, as that hot, wicked tongue lapped over his hipbones, his lower abdomen, the tender, hairless skin at the juncture of his thighs. “Nnn—!” He bit back a moan, his small hands clenching and unclenching on the demon’s broad shoulders, his slight body practically dangling from the hands holding him upright.

Sebastian licked his lips and chuckled softly against the soft, smooth skin. Ciel's moan drew his eyes upwards and the devil throbbed seeing the pleasured look cross his master's face, feeling his hands grabbing at his shoulders. His hot mouth opened and he slid his tongue along the under side of the boy's sticky length. He felt his little master tremble in his hands and rubbed his back with long fingers as he held him firmly. The demon closed his mouth around the small cock, his tongue swirling over the sensitive skin; he sucked at the head, darting his tongue against the tiny slit; he flicked his tongue along the ridge, growling lowly in his throat, sending pleasant vibrations coursing though his little charge; then, pressing his silvered tongue flat against the underside of the silky skin, he swallowed around the boy, pressing his lips against the smooth bare pelvis.

Ciel bent forward instinctively, curling over the top of Sebastian’s head; one hand threaded into the dark hair at the devil’s nape, the other clutching at that broad back and the woolen cassock covering it. “Hnn—wh—Seba—I- I can’t—stand—oh—“ That mouth, that clever, evil, magnificent _mouth_ , hot and wet and flexing and moving and sucking and… “Sebastian!” he blurted, much louder than he would have liked were he actually cognizant enough to care anymore. “Sebastian, Sebastian…!” His legs were jelly, his arms were quaking, his heart was pounding, and although Ciel was sure he _couldn’t_ have planned it that way, the moment Sebastian’s tongue did something particularly amazing, the devil’s head tilted _just so_ , brushing silken locks of raven hair across the boy’s hardening nipples. “Ah!”

Those little hands were grabbing at him, his hair, his clothing, and the devil smiled with his lips curled around Ciel's quickly hardening length. Sebastian slipped one arm partially around his young master's back, supporting him, while the other slid over the soft skin of the boy's rear. His fingers curled into the velvety cleft between his buttocks, slipping through his own seed that had overflowed from his climax. He rubbed against the boy, and as he delivered a hard suck in which he encircled that sensitive head with his evil tongue, he slipped his finger inside. His name fell from between Ciel's lips, and Sebastian growled with pleasure, licking and sucking and as those little cries reached his ears, he felt himself twitch, growing fully hard himself.

“Oh… oh, Seba—Sebastian…” Ciel was horrified to hear his voice come out as a breathy whimper, but quickly forgot his pride as that infernal mouth licked and lapped and sucked and drove him half mad. He was already hard again, almost painfully so, and cool, adept fingers were sliding into him to stroke all the places that made him melt. “Oh, oh no, no, not there, no… oh… _ohhhh_ …” He sank helplessly downward onto the devil’s lap, and was cradled in a one-armed embrace as if he were a very small child; Sebastian’s hand slid downward and he spread his slippery thighs obligingly, splaying his thin colt-legs as wide as they would go; he brought his right arm up to cling to the demon’s neck for support; and with perfect skill, those long fingers were fucking him again, in and out, in and out. “Sebastian, Sebastian…!” 

“Young master....” Sebastian purred against Ciel's ear. He pressed his hot searching tongue against the heated skin of the young earl's throat. He could almost be mistaken for nuzzling the boy... were he not splayed so brazenly across the devil’s lap moaning and being fucked senseless by long, talented fingers. He chuckled softly in the darkness and cradled the boy in his arms almost protectively. His tiny master nestled in his lap, with thighs spread wide for him made his cock throb. Sebastian lowered his arm so that Ciel was almost laying in his lap and slipped two fingers in and out of him, teasing; stroking; and deftly coaxing shameless sounds from the boy, as one long finger rubbed against the underside of his scrotum. Each time the devil’s name passed over the flushed pink lips of the master who had given it to him, he moved his fingers _just so_... and when the child was trembling in his lap, and Sebastian was leaking pearly fluid with the sweet wickedness of it all, he whispered seductively against the boy's shoulder, “I think I have found your penance... Yes, call my name. Call your devil...”

“Sebastian,” Ciel immediately moaned in response; normally, he would have been loath to comply so easily with a command, especially one from _Sebastian_ \- but that skillful hand and that deep, seductive voice robbed him of his customary stubbornness, and he was all too willing to do anything the devil asked of him, if only he would keep doing _that_. “Sebastian,” he panted, searching across the demon’s chest with his free hand for something to hold on to. “Sebastian, Sebastian!”

His hand found the dangling rosary and clutched at it, the edges of the pewter crucifix biting into his tender palm. “Yes, yes, Sebastian, oh, oh, there, there! Ah— _ah_! Sebastian, Sebastian!” His small fingers slowly worked their way up the chain of wooden beads, drops of blood from the cuts on his palm anointing them in turn, each one a marker for the litany of unholy prayers the boy sighed into the darkness. “Sebastian, oh, Sebastian…!” 

Sebastian's eyes blazed beneath his half lowered lids. He twitched, his arousal becoming almost painful. His mark on the back of his hand burned and throbbed as Ciel moaned his name into the dark. He looked down into that intoxicatingly innocent face. The boy looked up at his demon and the contract in his eye glowed like a beacon - a simply beautiful, dark reminder of ownership and possession. The pentagram was a fierce hot white against the pale purple of Ciel's eye. _Ah yes, such devotion. You will be saved my little master, for me, and for me only._ Sebastian curled his fingers stroking those sensitive places again and again. His deep aroused voice slid across the boy as silk slipping over itself. “Give me your sins, your devotion, your body, and what I will give you is so much more than redemption.” He cradled the boy closer against his chest and brought his arm around Ciel's side, his long fingers encircling one of his sensitive nipples.

Ciel arched upward into the devil’s touch, not caring one whit that he was being far too brazen, far too eager, far too complacent; Sebastian leaned over him, hot breath in his ear, tickling strands of hair hanging down to brush over his cheek. “Oh… oh… yes, Sebastian, yes, yes…” What was he agreeing to? He didn’t know and didn’t really care, although his shrewd mind was telling him he really ought to pay more attention – the demon was just as shrewd as he, and had much, _much_ more experience in treachery… but all that was of interest to him at the moment was the sound of Sebastian’s voice, the ravenous glow of his eyes, the movement of his hands, the feel of his cool lips against Ciel’s flushed, burning skin. 

“So good,” he found himself murmuring, pulling the devil down by the neck to press his face against his, cheek to cheek. “Oh, Sebastian, it feels so good, so good, don’t stop, Sebastian, Sebastian…!” Kiss-swollen lips fluttered over the demon’s cheekbone and down to his mouth, where the boy’s demanding little tongue licked kittenishly over Sebastian’s lips, lapping at the cupid’s bow, tickling the edges, flicking into the corners. “Sebastian…” he breathed, and opened his mouth to let the demon in.

Those long fingers softly pinched the boy's pebble-hard nipple before rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The devil arched a brow and chuckled softly as he continued to rock the small boy in his lap. His fingers slid in and out, and with inhuman perfection, he complied with his small demanding master. “Oh I shan't, little one... not until I give you something better.” Sebastian growled lowly, a deep rumbling sound that started as a purr and became something more as it vibrated through his chest. His lips parted ever so slightly with _that boy's_ perfect pink tongue brushing over him. 

_I’ve had the Devil in me,_ his young master had confessed. 

Sebastian's lips moved against the boy's, his tongue eagerly slipping into Ciel's mouth. _Yes, and you will again. Again and again._ The demon removed his fingers from his little lord as he breathed short growling pants into the deepening kiss. His hand wrapped around his aching length and he slid his pearly dripping head against the boy with Ciel's coltish leg draped over his arm. He sucked on the young earl's tongue, nipped his bottom lip and devoured the perfectly decadent noises and whimpers pouring from his young master. “Now, tell me, are you ready to have the devil in you again?”


	6. Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depart not hence, I pray thee, until I come unto thee, and bring forth my present, and set it before thee. And he said, I will tarry until thou come again. – Judges 6:18

“Yes,” Ciel panted in response, twisting his small fingers into Sebastian’s hair; his entire body was thrumming and hot, sweat beading on the smooth surface of his skin, droplets of perspiration falling from the ends of his hair. He ached, he burned, he craved. “Yes, yes, just hurry up and do it!”

The devil chuckled musically through the darkness. His burning eyes slid over the sweat slick body in his arms and with perverse delight he stroked long fingers over the boy’s heated flesh. That sweet voice laced with utter desire echoed in his ears. Sebastian throbbed at the sight, and the sound, and the very scent of his small lord’s arousal. 

_So demanding…_ “Good boy…”

The change was almost too quick to register. The only sound was the swish of Sebastian’s vicar robes as he stood from the bench. He slid the boy in his arms, fingers purposely rubbing against hard nipples and sensitive tender skin before depositing Ciel on the bench on his knees. 

The little Earl braced himself against the wall of the confessional, his palms slippery against the cool wood. “Hurry,” he hissed, tilting his hips up, his knees sliding apart as if by their own volition. “Hurry!”

The devil’s gentle, appreciative hands glided over his body, tweaking here, teasing there; the rosary dangled above the boy’s arched, trembling spine, the cold pewter crucifix nestling into the small of his back as Sebastian leaned forward; Ciel pressed his brow to the wall and clenched his teeth in an effort to keep himself from begging outright, but couldn’t help pressing back against the demon in invitation. “Come on, then!” he finally commanded in as fierce a whisper as he could manage. “Do it already!”

A slow smoldering smile graced the inhumanly handsome features in the darkness of the confessional. Sebastian’s lips curled around cat like sharp fangs. Ciel’s _demands_ whispered fiercely, desperately, were so darkly beautiful that his demon blood thrummed and pulsed beneath his pale cool skin. He pressed forward, covering the boy’s bare back with his chest. The weight of him forcing Ciel against the hard wood and Sebastian’s dripping cock slipped against velvety skin. “Yes..” the devil growled against a small pale shoulder before rocking forward and impaling his wanton little creature on the full length of him. His hands slid along thin arms, and came to rest over Ciel’s. Sebastian’s fingers slid between the boy’s, intertwining them and pinning his small hands against the wall. His next thrust rocked them forward and he bent his head forward to suck hungrily on the tender skin where shoulder meets neck.

Ciel sucked in a sharp breath as that wicked mouth flicked and tasted and bit at him – only to gasp again as his chest met the chilly surface of the wall. “Ah!” He had the compelling urge to reach for Sebastian, to hold onto him, to lock his fingers around whatever they would and clutch the devil to him as if he were pulling a chain leash, but the position he was in made it necessary to keep his hands on the wall – even if he were not being held in place, he would still have to brace himself, lest he be driven flat against the wood by the sheer force of Sebastian’s thrusts. 

He made a short, irritated sound of frustration that quickly died out and became a soft moan of pleasure. “Sebastian,” he breathed, squeezing the long fingers wrapped around his. “Sebastian, Sebastian…”

Sebastian’s eyes glowed, two rubies cast into the fires of hell glittering in the darkness. As his name, the name gifted to him by his master, fell upon his ears, those eyes flared as the pupils narrowed to tiny black slits. He responded with a deep rolling growl that started in his chest and coursed through the boy pressed beneath him. His hips rocked forward and up, pushing deeper. The devil’s crucifix, anointed with the blood of _his_ little lord, pressed against Ciel’s bare back. The hard round beads digging into shoulder blades, and the pewter cross scratching against his lower back as Sebastian rocked against him. 

This was the salvation he offered. The boy would be saved – saved from all others and only for him. Ciel’s broken pants and pleasured voice were prayers enough for the devil, his arching back and rocking hips the most _divine_ form of penance. Sebastian breathed heavy pants against Ciel’s shoulder mixed with feral growls. The boy’s pleasured moan sent a spark of flame through their shared mark and he pressed his tongue against the abraded flesh of Ciel’s neck once more leaving bruising kisses behind. 

Ciel tilted his head to the side obligingly, and an evil laugh warmed his shoulder. “What?” he asked, rather brusquely.

Sebastian licked upward along the side of the boy’s neck, his hot breath like steam against the twitching pulse point below Ciel’s ear. “Such a trusting gesture,” he teased, nibbling the spot.

Ciel made an ungraceful snorting sound and clenched his inner muscles as tightly as he could, making Sebastian flinch and slow down with a soft grunt of surprise. “Hmf,” the Earl muttered into the darkness, “I’d tell you to go to Hell, but that seems rather pointless.” He returned his head to its previous position as if to cut off the access he’d allowed a moment before… but really all he ended up doing was pressing his face to Sebastian’s, his eyes closed, mouth open and panting. “Insufferable bastard,” he said very quietly, his tone almost affectionate.

“Yes.” Sebastian replied, his velvety voice a whisper against Ciel’s lips. He pressed his lips over the boy’s, his tongue seeking his small master’s. He sucked and nipped at him, the kiss deep and hungry. His hips continued to move slowly, now seeking those deep places that would make the boy quiver. He released one of Ciel’s hands and trailed his nails down one arm, and then over his ribs before settling on the boy’s hip. 

Ciel reached up and behind with his free hand and wrapped his fingers in the ink black locks of Sebastian’s hair. When those fingers tightened and pulled the devil chuckled once more and nipped the boy’s lower lip. “Greedy imp,” he breathed before being pulled down into another devouring kiss.

“So I am,” the boy replied breathlessly as the kiss broke. “I want it all, everything you can give, and then some – you’re mine, every bit of you: every breath, every hair, every drop of blood in your body is _mine_ , Sebastian!” He curled the silken strands of hair around his fingers almost gently, then gave them a hard yank, pulling the devil even closer, clutching him tightly. “Give it to me, Sebastian,” he murmured in a low, reedy voice heavy with passion. “Give it all to me.”

“So I am.” The devil turned inflamed eyes on his irresistible creature thrumming with need. Sebastian stared for a moment into the beautiful marred eye where _his_ mark, the symbol of their mutual ownership, flared in the darkness. His voice floated through the scant space between them. It was barely a whisper, like raven feathers falling through the night, but every syllable was clear to Ciel. “You shall have everything… everything you ask of me.”

Sebastian’s hand slid from the small hip, over the pale hairless skin of the boy’s pelvis and his cool fingers wrapped around Ciel’s hard cock. A skilled thumb circled the sensitive head spreading the pearly fluid dripping from the slit. He hungered, he craved and he coaxed small moans and grunts from those kiss reddened lips. His body curled around his young master’s, yielding to the fierce pulling of his hair and pressing his body against the boy even as he was being clutched tighter. 

He rocked into the boy, and stroked him in time with his thrusts. Soft little _ah_ s fell from between Ciel’s lips and Sebastian curled his fingers beneath his scrotum, stroking and teasing along with a particularly deep thrust. The devil lowered his lids partially, casting crimson shadows across his cheeks as his thighs began to quiver. 

“Sebastian… Sebastian!” The desperate, wavering note in the boy’s voice turned his moan into a helpless whimper, making him blush with furious embarrassment… which made the devil chuckle, of course, and the blush spread to warm his ears. He tried to scold him, tried to say something snappish and cruel that would put his infernal servant in his place… but he felt too good, too hot and melting, too weak-kneed and pleasure-fogged to come up with anything better than “I hate you.”

“I know,” Sebastian answered, and kissed his temple.

Ciel shuddered all over and came with a soft cry, scant droplets of sticky fluid falling between the devil’s fingers to drip onto the bench below. “Ahh… Sebastian…”

Ciel squeezed around the demon as he came and Sebastian throbbed and ached with the sensation. His fingers, still entwined with the young lord’s, pulled their hands away from the wall and he wrapped his arm about the boy’s chest, clutching him possessively. He rocked against Ciel, thrusting with deep shuddering movements. The demon growled low in his throat as his muscles tightened, his thighs quivered and his lidded eyes blazed with crimson hellfire. 

“Young… Master.” He growled through aroused and harsh breaths until he came with such force, Ciel could feel him throb and pulse with each spurt. 

Sebastian held the boy upright in his arms, knowing his legs had a tendency to gain the consistency of dessert jelly after such an expenditure. He pushed dripping hair away from Ciel’s forehead, his lips curled secretly with pleasure. After a moment or two of respite, he lifted the boy once more, and turned to settle himself on the bench. He cradled his little lord in his lap as both of their breathing began to even out again in the darkness. 

Ciel rested against Sebastian in spent silence, his head nestled under the demon’s jaw, his boneless legs dangling uselessly. He was so exhausted he could easily have fallen asleep then and there, but of course that was unthinkable – he’d already risked far too much in staying so long, so a nap was definitely out, no matter how inviting the idea. He found himself wishing – not for the first time – that he were at home, where Sebastian could simply carry him to bed and tuck him in between cool white sheets. “Mmm,” he murmured idly.

The demon chuckled very softly, almost as if he were trying not to disturb the boy in his lap. He took great care in slowly bringing the young Earl back to a presentable state. It was unclear how many handkerchiefs Sebastian carried beneath those robes, or how his seemed to always be _just clean enough_ to wipe the sweat from Ciel’s brow and limp body, and then the sticky cooling fluid from his thighs and where it had dripped down his coltish legs. He arched a fine brow, thinking that he should really like to put his young master into a proper hot bath, however that wasn’t a possibility at the moment. When he had the boy cleaned up, he stood from the bench and sat the young Earl upon the edge just as he would his bed at home. With practiced ease, and in complete darkness, Sebastian redressed his young lord. Satisfied with Ciel’s appearance, he attended to his own state of dress, refastening buttons, straightening robes, and slipping his spectacles back onto his face. 

The demon smirked and lowered his face close to his master’s. His tone was light and playful. “You have been absolved. You can always come confess your sins to me, Phantomhive.”

END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to all our readers for your feedback, your patience, and above all, for reading our fic! we hope you enjoyed it. <3
> 
> we'll be starting another story soon... possibly another Weston arc fic, because Professor Michaelis is the stuff that (filthy, blasphemous, and oh so delicious) dreams are made of.


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